


Love Is Hard To Stop

by ispun



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-01 22:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ispun/pseuds/ispun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Nico has a bad accident, Paul struggles to get to grips with the changes to the Force India team. AU where Paul and Nico were both at Force India in 2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Is Hard To Stop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alt_reaYoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alt_reaYoon/gifts).



Dear Nico,

It feels weird to be writing a letter. I don't really write. But I just have so much I need to say and it feels like you're the only one I can say this stuff to.

The team is weird without you. I guess you know that they replaced you with Jules. Fuck, "replaced" sounds so harsh. You know what I mean.

He's doing ok. He learnt pretty quickly I guess. Everything is fine, I mean, I trust him, you know? He's a good driver. He's a nice guy.

It's just weird. I don't know what else to say. I don't know why I'm writing to you, you know?

Paul

Dear Nico,

After your accident, doing the press was so strange. They asked me how I felt carrying on driving while you were in hospital, and I just said it was fine, you know? I had to say that. What's the point in saying anything else?

But driving round after I'd seen the ambulance take you away was just so wrong. I felt like such a bastard. I hope you understand.

They got a psychologist guy in to talk to me. He said it's pretty normal to feel weird when a driver has a big crash, but especially your teammate. I guess so.

Paul

Dear Nico,

It was Silverstone today. Everyone was expecting me to be really happy because it's my home grand prix. It doesn't feel like home, you know? Home is Scotland. It feels weird calling England home. Well, where the fuck is home these days? Is Monaco home? I don't even know.

Anyway, I wasn't happy, and everyone knew it. I had to do this stupid game with all the other British drivers for Sky and I just wasn't in the mood. Sometimes all this shit really pisses me off. I just want to race, you know? You were always much better at that stuff than me. "He's always got a smile on his face that one, not like you, you dour Scottish bastard." That's what Frank said to me, remember? I mean, it was a joke, you know, but it was true anyway. Sometimes I wish I could be more like you.

Jules is getting better all the time. You know, it never really bothered me when you beat me. I mean, I always want to win. But the thought of Jules winning annoys me. Anyway, he hasn't yet. He probably won't. He's getting better, but he makes stupid mistakes.

The psychologist keeps asking if I want to talk about the crash yet. But I don't even think about the crash, not really. Sometimes I think I should have stopped racing, gone with you to the hospital, sat with you for longer, and not just carried on with the season. He said that that's normal. He says everything's normal.

And it's weird they got someone who's so different compared to you, you know? I mean, he's so much shorter, lighter. The car's not set up for him. I told them that, but they wouldn't listen. They pretended to listen. But who cares what I think, right?

I feel like the team is falling apart without you here. It's not just your driving. You kept everyone going when things were bad. I can't do that and the guys hate me for it. They pretend they don't but they do. I can't help it, you know? I can't pretend to be someone I'm not, I can't smile when I'm pissed off.

Sorry for moaning.

Paul

Dear Nico,

Fucking Maldonado. It was Spa today and the fucking idiot crashed into me. I'm still shaking. I'm so angry. The whole team told me that I needed to let it go, and then I shouted and they made me go back to the hotel early. They said I was being unprofessional. Yeah, well, driving into someone is pretty unprofessional too.

And the number of fuck-ups the team have made. I swear they never fucked up when you were still here, right? It's like no-one cares about winning or scoring points right now. But we're just travelling around and normally you'd be with us and now you're not. Jules is here instead. I have to do interviews with him and all that stuff and it's just not the same. I'd rather it was with you, that's all.

One of the guys said to me "I know you miss Nico, but just try to compartmentalise it" and I know it sounds fucking cheesy, but yeah, I do miss you. I didn't really realise it until he said it. I mean, I knew I missed you, but...I don't even know how to say it so I'll stop.

Paul

Dear Nico,

The season's going from bad to worse. If I don't spin, I just can't get any pace. I just kind of don't see the point, you know? I never even thought about there being a point before, I just wanted to drive and to win. But now I just think, why am I even doing this?

And I just...Jules pisses me off. I know that sounds harsh, cos he's a nice guy and we got on with him ok when he was the reserve driver, but it's like he wants to be my best mate or something. And it's like everyone expects that. He's always asking how I am, all this stuff, and he won't just shut up, you know? He never used to annoy me.

Some of the questions the psychologist asked were so weird. About our relationship. My relationship with Jules. And then he said "you know all of this is confidential?" But it's none of his business, you know? I hope you know what I'm talking about. I have to see him every week now. It's stupid. It doesn't make me feel better. Writing to you does. I kind of imagine you telling me it'll be fine. Don't laugh, but you always made me feel better.

Paul

 

Dear Nico,

Right, you know, I just need to say this. I really miss you, not just being teammates, but after the races, when we'd go back to the hotel. We never spoke about it, did we? It just happened and then we pretended it hadn't. Sometimes, I really wish we hadn't pretended.

Everyone used to laugh at us, both being so tall in F1, both being kind of big. But I loved how I could fuck you so hard, how I could feel every muscle of your body under mine. It felt good knowing you weren't fragile. And it was the same with how you were with me. Everyone was always saying to me how you're this nice smiley guy, so innocent and harmless! Ha! You were always so filthy with me in bed. The first time we did it, you were so aggressive. I'd never been with anyone like that. But I guess all those months of looking at each other...I knew we both wanted it, but, you know how weird it is. If anyone had found out...but yeah, that first time. Anyway.

The psychologist knows, you know? I told him that we're friends, you know? More than friends. Whatever.

Paul

Dear Nico,

Now I've started thinking about having sex with you, it's like I can't stop. You know the time I always remember? When you still had your glasses and we'd been at that party in Monaco. You were so drunk. And you were so horny. We had to go back to my apartment, I don't even remember the stupid excuse we made for why we were leaving early.

We hadn't even got through the door and you already had my tie off, you had my trousers open. I remember looking at you and thinking how beautiful you looked. That sounds stupid, you're a man, but you just looked so fucking beautiful. Your eyes were all shiny and your hair was a mess and you were down on your knees sucking me and you were just so into it. I'd never seen anyone look so intense like that. And honestly, you made me come in about five seconds, remember? And I pulled out of your mouth and it went all over your glasses and you just looked like the filthiest, most beautiful thing and you begged me to touch you, you just said "please, Paul" and I did and we just lay there, right on the sitting room floor and I remember thinking "fuck, am I just drunk or is this something else?" But we didn't talk about it the next day, and we really should have.

I keep thinking about it anyway. You on your knees with your glasses covered in my come, holding my leg and just saying to me "please, Paul."

Paul

Dear Nico,

Well the season hasn't improved. I haven't scored any points since Silverstone and the whole media is talking about it, how my career's over before it even really started, all that stuff. You know what? I don't even care. I just miss you. I miss the way your cock felt in my mouth, the noises you made when you fucked me, the way you grabbed at my hair. It was so fucking good between us, you know? I never had sex like that before.

It wasn't even just that. I liked waking up next to you. I liked the way you would make me coffee. I liked having a shower with you. I liked all those things, sometimes more than the sex. Sometimes I wished we could just do those things and not even have sex, you know?

This is too weird.

Paul

Dear Nico,

I love you. I realise that now. Maybe I had always known. I wish I'd told you before. I wish I could tell you now. I can't even go to visit you because we're always travelling so I just write you these letters and hope that somehow you understand or you can hear me or something.

I don't know if I should write for a while. It's too hard. I think about you smiling at me, or how you'd laugh at something silly I said, or how your hair looked in the morning and sometimes it makes me happy but a lot of the time it makes me sad. So maybe I need to just try to forget for a bit.

I love you, though.

Paul

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Understeers fic exchange.


End file.
